Senses Sensei
by timewalker05
Summary: Written by Poa with a little help from me. Chuck tries to teach Sarah a lesson about stopping to smell the roses. One-shot.


_And now for something completely different…_

_My good friend and editor __**Poa**__ wrote a wonderful little one-shot that she didn't like very much. I, on the other hand, thought it was good and could make a good little Charah one-shot with a little tweaking. So I tweaked and sent it back to her. She tweaked some more and sent it back to me. I tried to get her to post it since it's really her story and her idea, but, being the modest person she is, she insisted that I post it. So here it is._

_**Poa**__'s story…_

SENSES SENSEI

The black Porsche inched slowly down the dirt and gravel road. Behind it, a cloud of dust swirled and eddied, while the wind whipped it into little dust devils that rose higher and higher until the stiffer breeze coming over the trees dissipated it like mist hit by the morning sun.

In the driver's seat, Sarah winced as another pebble dinged against the wheel well. Her baby would need a bath after this, and a good coat of wax. She just hoped none of the rocks she was trying hard not to throw up were nicking her paint.

Ignoring or perhaps oblivious to her anxious scowl, Chuck was sitting in the passenger's seat, smiling out the window.

"Where are we going again?" Sarah asked.

Chuck looked over at her and smiled. The afternoon sun danced off his eyes, making them sparkle like two brown diamonds. "We're almost there," he said. He looked out the windshield and pointed. "Over there. That next left."

Sarah thought they were already off the beaten track, but the _goat path_ Chuck was pointing to caused her to wince. "No," she said. "Chuck, that's not even a _road_."

"Sarah, please. Just a little farther."

Sarah sighed, shook her head, and thought about the cost of new shock absorbers as she turned down the path indicated.

The road wound through some low bushes, one of which scratched the side of the car, causing Sarah to wince and choke back a curse.

"There!" Chuck said. "Right up there."

Sarah looked where Chuck was pointing. The road ended at the top of a small rise. An old picnic table which had perhaps once been red but now merely hinted at redness sat beneath the spreading limbs of a giant oak. Sarah pulled up next to the picnic table and turned off the car.

Chuck climbed out of the car and stretched, taking a deep breath and letting it out with a contented sigh. Sarah checked the car's alarm system, glanced around to make sure that nothing valuable would show through the windows, and pulled her gun out of the glove compartment. She popped the magazine, checked the loads, and then slid the magazine back home. She held up the gun, checked the safety, and reached up with her other hand to chamber the first round.

"No, Sarah."

Sarah looked up. Chuck was leaning down, looking in the open passenger door. "No, Sarah," he repeated. "Leave the gun."

"Chuck…"

"Sarah, please."

She shook her head. "Every time I leave the gun…"

"Sarah, it's okay. I had Casey, what did he call it… police the area before we came. It'll be all right."

Sarah looked down at the gun, then back up at Chuck.

"Trust me?"

She sighed and slid the gun back into its holster. Frowning, she slipped the gun and holster back in the glove compartment, then locked it.

She climbed out of the car and closed the door. She turned slowly and surveyed the terrain. Remote location. No sign of recent activity. Wait. There. Tire tracks off to the left. The right front tire had a small cut in the inner tread. Casey's Crown Vic. She continued the turn, scanning the horizon for any potential threats.

Chuck slammed his car door just a little too hard and it made her wince. He didn't notice. He was standing with his hand resting on the roof of the car, looking down the slope of the hill. "Isn't it gorgeous? Dad, Ellie and I used to come here for picnics… on those rare occasions when he wasn't working."

Sarah glanced over at him, and then went back to scanning the tree line. "Yeah," she said. "It's lovely."

Chuck turned to her. He sighed. "Sarah."

She turned back to him and frowned. She knew that tone of voice. That was his 'disappointed voice.' "What?" she snapped.

Chuck sighed again. "Close your eyes," he said.

"What?" Sarah asked. "I'm not…"

Chuck was walking around the car toward her. He stopped and touched her lightly on the arm. "Sarah, please. Just close your eyes."

"Fine," she huffed. And closed her eyes. Nothing happened. She fidgeted a little. After a long pause, she opened one eye. "What?" she asked again. Seeing the big grin on his face, it was impossible for it not to be reflected just a little on her own. "Oh, come on," she said, putting her hands on her hips.

"Close your eyes," he chided, and he reached up and put his hands on her shoulders.

She closed her eyes again and allowed him to gently turn her so that she was facing away from him, toward the downward slope of the hill.

"Now open them and tell me what you see."

Sarah barely opened her eyes, leaving them mere slits. It was drilled into her by her E & E (escape and evasion) instructor - if you've been blindfolded, don't open your eyes all the way. Your pupils have dilated and need time to adjust. Open your eyes all the way and you're blind.

Sarah scanned the slope. Off to the left was a small break in the trees – the start of a path leading down the slope. Given the size of the underbrush, it would be hard to move through the trees and that was a likely spot to watch for any potential threats. Off to the right were the remains of an old deer stand. With a little work, it would make a good sniper's perch—good coverage of the slope and a clear field of fire both back down the road and for the first few meters of the trailhead.

She paused. That wasn't what Chuck would want to hear.

"Um, trees?" she offered.

Chuck sighed. "Close your eyes again, Sarah."

"Chuck…"

"Sarah, please. Trust me, okay?"

Sarah sighed and harrumphed, but closed her eyes again. One of the things that they stressed in the Academy was spatial awareness. A good agent had to be able to fight in the dark and to sense where their opponent was. Sarah could sense Chuck moving closer, until she could feel his breath on her neck. She tensed.

"Relax, Sarah," Chuck said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

She took a deep breath and blew it slowly out, feeling at least a little of the tension ebb away.

"That's good," Chuck said softly, his voice tickling her ear. "Take another deep breath and let it out."

Sarah did. It felt good, actually. They were far enough out of the city that the air was, if not fresh, at least fresher. It reminded her a bit of when she and her father lived for a little while in Omaha while her father conned a local medical consortium. She felt the tension returning at the memory of her father, so she took another deep breath and slowly let it out.

"Good," Chuck whispered. "Now listen to me, Sarah. You don't have to be an agent all the time. Sometimes it's okay to let your hair down."

"My hair is down, smarty pants," she chided. Indeed, her hair hung loose around her shoulders because she knew that Chuck liked it this way, not that she would admit that.

"You know what I mean," Chuck said. She could almost sense him smile.

"Can I open my eyes now?" Sarah asked.

"Just a minute," Chuck replied. "I want you to open your eyes and tell me what you see. Don't give me a tactical analysis of our location. Tell me what you _see_. Okay?"

Sarah took another long breath and sighed, "Okay."

Slowly, she opened her eyes. For Chuck's sake, she opened them all the way. The light made her eyes water. She blinked several time and finally reached up and wiped them. She was glad she wore her waterproof mascara.

"What do you see, Sarah?" Chuck whispered.

Sarah looked around and gasped.

"Tell me," Chuck said.

Sarah had studied math and science in school. She had avoided English classes, because she never thought she had a way with words. Poetry had mystified her. Now, she wished had the gift of an Emily Dickinson, or an Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

She took it all in, ignoring Chuck's question for the moment. Frankly, she was astounded. The scene before her was completely different from the one she had analyzed only moments ago. It was as if she had been blinded, and had now given the miraculous gift of sight. The narrow path was lined with wild violets, and the tiny purple petals shimmered in the tree-filtered sunlight. She shifted her gaze, reluctantly, to the forest beyond, and her eyes were drawn to a moss-covered log. Her eyes widened slightly—there was movement. Squinting a little, she suddenly relaxed and smiled; a chipmunk was sitting on the log, washing his tiny paws with his tongue. Delighted, she watched him for a moment, and then her gaze slid upward, toward the leafy canopy above. The breeze rustled through the treetops, and the tall maple and beech trees swayed; she felt a little like she was falling as she watched.

Still looking upward, she stepped back and leaned against Chuck, who was waiting quietly. He wrapped his arms around her, and she turned her head to look up at him. His brown eyes met her blue ones, and she felt like she was still falling, right into the warmth and acceptance he offered with his soft smile. She grinned at him and let Chuck hold her, suddenly believing that anything was possible, that maybe, she could be happy—truly happy. With him.

She laid the back of her head against his shoulder and folded her arms over his, wondering how it was that the simple rise and fall of his chest against her back could make her feel so content and relaxed. He tightened his hold, pulling her even closer to him, and he rocked her gently back and forth. They were like one of the trees, swaying in the warm breeze. Sarah closed her eyes.

She felt his chin against her shoulder and he kissed her once, softly along the side of her neck, just below her earlobe. _Don't stop_, she thought, keeping her eyes closed.

"Sarah," he murmured. "Do you hear it?"

"Hmmm?" she said absently.

"Listen."

Sighing, she listened. Wind in the trees. Chuck's breathing. Suddenly she tensed. What had at first been a distant slight rustling of underbrush was fast becoming a series of louder noises—snapping twigs and the crunching of dry leaves underfoot. Something was approaching. Something big. Something in a hurry. She tried to break Chuck's hold on her.

"Wait," he said quietly, holding her tightly.

"Chuck," she pleaded, alarmed. The sound was growing louder by the minute. Whatever it was, it was headed right for them. _Damn it_, she thought. _Why did I let him talk me into leaving my gun in the car?_ She struggled in his arms again.

"Trust me, Sarah. Just wait," he repeated, refusing to let her break his hold.

Suddenly, the source of the noisy crashes burst forth from the trees—a herd of deer ran past Chuck and Sarah, only a few yards from where they stood. The seven or eight deer—they ran so quickly that Sarah couldn't be sure of her count—leaped across the dirt track, just behind the Porsche. They disappeared into the trees on the other side, and the sounds of their progress became more distant, and then dissipated altogether.

Standing stock still, Sarah realized that her heart was thumping loudly in her ears and that she was breathing fast. She looked up at Chuck, and his eyes were shining with excitement. He laughed then, relaxing his grip on her. She pushed away from him and narrowed her eyes as he continued to laugh. He bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry," he began, trying to hold in another chuckle. "It's just that the look on your face… "

She wanted to scold him. And she tried to maintain a stern expression. But his laugh was infectious, and suddenly she found herself laughing with him. _God, it feels so good to laugh like this_, she thought.

"C'mere," he said, holding out his arms.

She stepped into his embrace and pressed her ear against his chest, listening to what had become her favorite sound—his heartbeat.

The End


End file.
